


Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me

by Final_Redemption



Category: Johnny Marr - Fandom, Morrissey - Fandom, The Smiths
Genre: F/M, Johnny Marr - Freeform, M/M, Marrissey, Morrissey - Freeform, The Smiths - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:35:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24833212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Final_Redemption/pseuds/Final_Redemption
Summary: Morrissey always loved the unobtainable it seemed. Johnny Marr was certainly no exception.
Relationships: Johnny Marr/Angie Marr, Johnny Marr/Morrissey, Morrissey/Johnny Marr
Comments: 26
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

Morrissey had found himself tossing and turning in bed, again. His mind was poised by a certain chocolate eyed, scruffy haired bad boy. Johnny bloody Marr. 

He had never been the one to harbour any feelings towards people, ever. Morrissey found the idea of “ human connections “ to be redundant, and unrealistic.

That was until the fateful day he met Johnny. Morrissey had otherwise found big mouthed, over energised, happy go lucky people to be rather annoying. But Johnny... and those golden, sparkly eyes. His... rather long, pretty white neck... oh! and those bony fingers of his that plucked away mystical tunes. Oh so very long. Morrissey’s mind begun to wander. 

The singer felt his throat tighten at the thought of Johnny’s delicate hands. They must be so skilled... so attentive... 

Oh. He was getting off track. 

Morrissey cleared his throat, as if that may help him regain composer.

Ah, yes, Johnny. Johnny fucking Marr. 

How anybody hadn’t released how madly infatuated he was with Johnny was truly the biggest mystery known to man. All the countless times he’d forgotten to bite his tongue for good measure during an interview, gushing loudly over how much he adored the guitarist. 

“ How important is Johnny Marr to The Smiths? “ They’d ask, eagerly. 

Morrissey would lick his lips, and find himself shutting his eyes softly. 

“ Oh yes... he’s very important, very. Without Johnny, I would be a nobody. I would be rotting away, alone in my same old bedroom, writing furiously without bringing anything to fruition. When Johnny knocked on my door, and I chose to let him into my mundane world, I felt an energy slither and tear at my insides. He didn’t beat around the bush, there was no tomorrow, there was simply just today. That’s why he’s so critical to me. “ 

The interviewer would blink slowly like a deer in headlights. 

“ Er... The Smiths... critical to - ahem - The Smiths, yes. “ He’d correct, dumbly. 

It was true, though. Johnny had saved his life. The point in time in which he met Johnny was the most depressing of all, Morrissey on the brink of suicide. He had just about given up on searching for “ the greater parts of life “ believing there to be none at all. 

Then here came Johnny... and his marvellous, beautiful, wonderful and positive self. 

It was like a flicker in Morrissey’s mind, he just knew this was it. This was one of the joys of life people were always babbling on about. 

“ Oh... I think I’m in love. “ He mumbled into his pillow. He was. Madly. What was he to do about it? Johnny was already happily married to an amazing girl. She was beautiful, witty and funny... More than Morrissey could ever be. The singer sighed dramatically, wrapping his arms around his broad shoulders. 

As he closed his eyes, he almost could imagine it was Johnny that was holding him. Suddenly - something came over him - he quickly fumbled for his notebook by his nightstand, writing profusely. 


	2. Chapter 2

Morrissey was in the studio, disoriented as always. He simply watched Mike and Andy talk back and forth, not having any grasp on what on earth they were saying amongst one another. He liked it better that way. The singer decided.

He had found himself blowing a fuse last night, helplessly writing up a new song. He believed this one was important and held something new. He was excited yet nervous to share it amongst the bandmates. Well - maybe that was a lie... he was only really nervous about one particular bad boy’s opinion.

Morrissey subconsciously clenched his jaw. Johnny fucking Marr.

“ You alright there, mate? “ Mike asked, his brows furrowing. Morrissey’s royal blue eyes flickered to the man in question, flashing a half hearted smile.  
“ Yes. Blooming. “ He announced with a fruity tone. Mike eyed Andy and then the singer. “ You sure, Moz? “ He pried, further. Morrissey’s bushy brows narrowed. “ I recommend getting your ears checked, dear Mike. Who knew that bigger wasn’t better after all. “ Morrissey retorted, coldly.

The drummer itched his neck awkwardly. “ Ok... “ He trailed, spinning around to Andy once more. Morrissey tutted under his breath, shaking his head as he nestled his face into an Oscar Wilde book. He had read this one countless times. The Picture Of Dorian Grey was a undoubtably phenomenal book. He could talk about it for days.

Lost in his book, he didn’t notice a certain jet black haired man enter the room.

“ Hey, Moz! “ Johnny beamed, in that strong accent of his. Morrissey almost yelped, as if he was tipping his toe into freezing water. “ Johnny... “ His voice croaked out, touching his cheek as he felt himself burn up. “ I heard you wrote a new song! “ Johnny exclaimed, those beautiful chocolate coloured eyes sparkling like a rhinestone. So beautiful. Morrissey thought.

“ Yes... I’m rather proud of it. “ Morrissey stated, his electric eyes averting from Johnny’s gaze nervously. Johnny hummed in response, now looking over at Mike and Andy. “ Hey! “ he exclaimed, in his usual excited manner. Mike and Andy both looked at Johnny, bewildered. “ Mozzer wrote a new song! “ Johnny added, not noticing the blushing singer next to him. 

Mike and Andy’s faces both lit up with glee, approaching the two men. “ Finally! “ Andy beamed, his ivory eyes bright and joyous. Morrissey smiled anxiously, revealing his notebook from his bag. “ It’s er... a bit different than my usual writing. “ The singer explained, ripping the page out of his notebook so he could hand it to Johnny, first. 

“ Different is good! “ Mike replied, his grin widening. Morrissey huffed a laugh in response. Andy turned his gaze to Johnny, looking rather curious. “ So?... “ He pondered. Johnny was silent, completely immersed in the song. They all now began to stare as Johnny clutched the writing in his hands, scanning the page with wide eyes. Morrissey was growing terribly nervous. 

“ It’s... “ He trailed, making everyone’s ears in the room perk up at the sudden sound of Johnny’s voice. “ It’s so... beautiful. “ He finalised, catching Morrissey’s rosey face as he smiled uncontrollably. “ Thank you, dear Johnny. “ The singer beamed, his smile growing even more. 

Andy and Mike exchanged curious looks, still wondering what contents the song possessed. 

“ what’s it called? “ Johnny asked, eagerly. Morrissey hesitated for a moment, itching the newfound redness on his otherwise, pale neck. “ Last night I dreamt that somebody loved me... “ He nervously answered, his hand now covering his rosy lips. Johnny couldn’t help but admire how cute Morrissey was when nervous. Woah. Where’d that come from? Johnny gulped, wiping his clumpy lashes with his hands. “ Sad... but I like it. “ Johnny complimented, smiling. 

—————-

Some hours had passed. It was now nighttime, the moon’s silver light shining down against the bleakness of the inky sky. Johnny preferred the nighttime as he was always more productive at that time.  
Johnny was lost in his thoughts until he heard Morrissey yawn loudly. 

Johnny’s eyes darted towards the singer, taking in his tired form. Morrissey’s eyes were heavy lidded, his lips agape as he rested one hand in his brown tufts of hair.  
His red cardigan was draped over one of his shoulders, giving Morrissey a somewhat dishevelled look. Despite this - Johnny thought Morrissey looked breathtakingly beautiful like this. Their was just something about his soft, dazed look that made Johnny’s chest tighten. 

“ What are you looking at? “ Morrissey quizzed, his unusually thick eyebrow raised. Johnny bit his lip, snapping himself back into reality. “ Nothing. “ Johnny answered, dumbly. The guitarist knew he had failed at being convincing when he watched Morrissey break into a tired, devilish smile. “ Am I nothing, dearest Johnny? “ He sleepily spoke, his eyes sly as ever. Johnny let out a nervous laugh, fumbling in his leather jackets pocket for his black shades. He placed them on the bridge of his nose and ran a single hand through his spiky, midnight black hair. 

“ Of course not. You’re an amazing singer, writer and companion. “ Johnny announced. Morrissey struggled to read Johnny’s eyes through the black lenses of his shades. The singer came to the conclusion that this was intentional. Morrissey had a almost delayed reaction, his face twitching as he itched his cheek.  
“ A companion? “ He asked, a bit too eagerly. Johnny seemed to freeze for a moment before he shot one of those toothy million dollar grins. Morrissey swore he felt his insides twist. 

“ Yea. We have a great companionship, that’s why The Smiths are so successful. “ Johnny explained. Morrissey couldn’t help thinking about something else at the mention of being a great “ companion “ but he tried his best not to show this.  
“ Yes, “ Morrissey agreed, tilting his head upward, rather smugly. “ You’re wonderful, we’re wonderful. “ The singer praised. Johnny was about to say something before he got interrupted by one of Morrissey’s loud, oddly high pitched yawns. 

Morrissey covered his mouth, suddenly wide eyed. “ Oh dear. That’s rather embarrassing. “ He mumbled to himself. Johnny started to laugh, burying his face in the sleeve of his jacket. Morrissey was now looking at the other man, trying his very best to look intimidating by narrowing his pretty eyes. Little did he know, he looked about as scary as a hissy kitten. “ I don’t appreciate being laughed at. “ Morrissey added, a bit too seriously for the context. Johnny recomposed himself, now eyeing the man through his shades once more. 

“ It just was... sort of... I don’t know... “ Johnny trailed, watching as Morrissey’s eyebrows quirked in multiple different ways. “ Don’t kill me, Moz but it was rather cute, in a way. Kind of like when your dog sneezes, you know? “ Johnny said, second guessing himself after the matter. Should he of said that? 

Morrissey’s cheeks were beaming with pinks and reds by now, the singer tugging at his cardigan. “ Excuse me... did you just... compare me to a pet? “ Morrissey asked, his voice still tired sounding. “ Yes, I think I just did. “ Johnny confirmed, rethinking everything he just said. Johnny was at least thankful that Morrissey didn’t antagonise him over the “ cute “ remark. That would’ve been difficult to get out of. 

Morrissey’s eyes began to close uncontrollably. “ You are... lucky I’m tired. “ He mumbled, drearily. Johnny made a face that was unseen by the singer, edging slightly closer. “ You need to get home, Moz, you’re shattered. “ Johnny spoke softly, resting his hands on Morrissey’s shoulders. Morrissey knew the guitarist was right but he just didn’t want to cut their time together short. He missed when they would hang out more frequently. 

“ But... their is so much to speak about, dear Johnny. “ Morrissey murmured, bleary eyes slightly opened. Johnny frowned. Morrissey would always overwork himself like this... it worried him day and night. He knew the singer threw himself into his work for many reasons... one being not wanting to brush shoulders with his depressive thoughts. it didn’t mean Morrissey didn’t become affected by this tactic, also. Countless sleepless nights, distance from people and forgetting to eat or drink. The more Johnny thought about it, the more worried he got. 

Johnny sighed, pulling the singer into a hug. He was unsure why, maybe he was just feeling sentimental. Morrissey let out a sort of yelp of surprise - which - was rather cute, too. “ Johnny?... “ Morrissey whispered against the guitarist’s neck. Johnny felt his body tingle at the feeling of Moz’s hot breath against his skin. “ I love you, Moz. “ Johnny spoke softly, hugging Morrissey even tighter. Johnny felt Morrissey smile against him. “ I love you too, dear Johnny. “ He heard the singer reply. 

“ I know that was out of the blue... but I just thought I’d remind you. “ Johnny said, rubbing circles into Morrissey’s back. Morrissey let out a sort of... sniffle? Wait... was he... crying?! 

“ hey... “ Johnny whispered, leaning back to look at Morrissey. Sure enough, he was crying. The sight broke Johnny’s heart, he looked so vulnerable and small. “ I’m ok, “ He croaked out, wiping his blotchy eyes with the back of his hand. “ Just tired. “ He let out a laugh as more tears pricked his blue eyes. Johnny frowned. “ I’m taking you home. “ Johnny announced. 

Morrissey’s tear filled eyes widened slightly. “ No... I cannot bear to walk. “ Morrissey pleaded, stooping lower into the crease of the studio’s settee. Morrissey’s eyes begun to close against his own control. Johnny sighed. 

“ come here, “ 

Despite Johnny’s size, he picked the singer up with ease. Morrissey let out a shocked noise, covering his mouth much like earlier. “ How?... “ Morrissey questioned, truly and utterly confused. “ Don’t judge a book by it’s cover, right? “ Johnny smiled, smugly. Before Morrissey could think of a smart reply, he nodded off in Johnny’s arms. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter just turned into Johnny being thirsty over Morrissey’s ass... woops . That prospect is just very funny to me.

It was morning time, Johnny had carried Morrissey back to his apartment and placed him carefully in his bed. He knew the singer would probably wake up in a almost sour mood, chastising Johnny for not allowing him to sleep at the studio instead... but Johnny knew the singer deserved a good nights rest in a warm, comfy bed. That bed being Johnny’s. Thankfully, Angie had been out drinking last night so she decided to stay over at a friend’s house. If she were here... Morrissey would probably have to just sleep on the settee. Johnny shook his head subconsciously. 

Johnny didn’t get any sleep last night, preoccupied by the mental state of Morrissey. He just loved the singer so much... and sensed their was something off with him, more than usual. Johnny sighed. 

Suddenly - Morrissey let out a sleep endured groan - licking his dry lips. Johnny watched with wide, curious eyes as the singer tossed and turned almost majestically. Johnny swore it was utterly insane that Morrissey wasn’t aware of his affect on people with those undeniable pretty boy looks. 

He had a cute button nose, deep blue eyes, Cupid bowed lips and a jawline that was as sharp as the man’s wit. Maybe even more so. Johnny thought to himself. Oh and his body... gangly, tall and delicate. Johnny would be lying if he said he didn’t think of it often. He wanted to grab the singer and shake him furiously when he’d prance around carelessly, pulling at his own clothing to reveal the outline of his chest, and his ribs. He could’ve sworn Morrissey knew what affect he had on him, he could’ve sworn it was some kind of taunt. 

What the hell was Morrissey doing to him? 

As if on cue - Morrissey let out a soft moan, his sleepy eyes now catching with Johnny’s. 

The singer then jumped up in shock, burying his head in his hands.  
“ Oh my... oh my... “ He mumbled, pure terror taking hold of the singer. Johnny made a face of confusion. “ Mozzer? “ He quizzed, getting up from his chair to approach Morrissey. Morrissey made a chattering noise with his jittering teeth. Was he cold? Weird. His face was practically glowing with reds and pinks.  
“ You didn’t... “ He trailed, now removing his hands from his face to look at Johnny with shock horror. 

Johnny smiled sheepishly, confused as to what Morrissey was asking.  
“ didn’t what? “ The guitarist replied, placing his hand on Morrissey’s shoulder. He felt the singer flinch at his touch, was he always like this in the mornings?  
Morrissey swallowed thickly, closing his eyes to then open them once more.  
“ Did I say anything... whilst I was sleeping? I have a tendency to... Er... sleep-talk... “ Morrissey admitted, awkwardly itching the back of his neck. Johnny raised his brows, even though Morrissey wouldn’t notice from the curtain of Johnny’s black fringe. 

“ You made some noises but nothing audible. I swear you worry about the silliest of things. “ He joked, patting the back of the singer playfully. Morrissey gulped again. Why the hell was he so... bothered? What did he think he said?  
“ Right. Good. “ Morrissey murmured, fumbling with the wisps of his red cardigan. Johnny was utterly baffled as to why the singer was so concerned with what he may of said. It started spinning in the guitarists head, like a whirlwind. Did Morrissey say something about... him? Oh god. Like what? That his hairstyle had overstayed it’s welcome? That wearing shades indoors was pompous and uncool? That his guitar playing didn’t match the brilliance of his voice? Oh god. It just kept on spinning and spinning like a Vinyl on a turntable. 

“ Dearest Johnny? “ Morrissey suddenly spoke, his voice like a splash of cold water on Johnny’s face. Now the guitarist was the one blushing. “ Yeah, Moz? “ He asked, trying to remain cool and collected. Morrissey smiled sweetly. “ You look so tired... tell me - did you get any sleep, my dear friend? “ Morrissey was now speaking in a soft, fruity tone. His eyes were sparkling with empathy as he moved slightly closer to Johnny. 

By habit - Johnny rubbed his clumpy lashes with his fists, smearing the mascara around his almond shaped, chocolate eyes. “ A bit... “ He mumbled, watching closely as Morrissey’s head rose upwards in that knowing manner of his. Cocky know it all. Johnny thought fondly. “ Sleep, please? “ Morrissey pleaded, his eyes growing wide like a puppy dog’s. Johnny smiled by default, patting the other man’s shoulder. “ Nothin’ a coffee and some toast can’t fix. No worries. “ He adamantly replied, watching the singer’s face drop defeatedly.

“ Johnny... you need your sleep, “ Morrissey complained, his voice sounding agitated and sad. Johnny felt butterflies emerge in his insides. “ It’s very detrimental to your health, you know. I’d hate for you to fall ill - as would Angie, Mike and Andy. “ The singer was now frowning, his eyebrows raised in a concerned manner. To think people never even knew Steven Patrick Morrissey possessed such a caring side to him saddened Johnny. They were surely missing out. 

“ We have work to do, Moz. “ Johnny stated, stifling a yawn. Morrissey seemed to analyse Johnny in his entirety, trying to figure out what to say. “ Ok... but do promise me, you will get a good nights rest tonight, yes? “ Morrissey asked, eagerly. Johnny smiled apologetically.  
“ All I can say is I’ll try. “ Johnny admitted, getting up from the side of his bed. 

Morrissey stared longingly at Johnny before he got up briskly, brushing down his clothes. “ Oh... “ He sighed, dramatically. Johnny rolled his eyes, turning his gaze to the flamboyant singer. “ I know exactly what that sigh means. “ Johnny teased, watching as Morrissey narrowed his brows at him.  
“ This is simply not good enough. I dread to think what they may think of me if I step outside in the same clothes! “ Morrissey whined, in his cute childish way. 

Johnny stared almost lovingly at the man, rolling his eyes again at Morrissey’s dramatic pointing and tugging at his clothes. Morrissey bit his lip.  
“ Johnny?... “ Johnny recognised that pleading voice, he’d heard it a good few times before. One time being when Morrissey got a little bit too upset when Johnny forgot to cut the crusts off his toast. So dramatic. Johnny thought. 

“ Ok, ok, “ Johnny groaned, fumbling through his heap of clothes. The singer watched curiously with wide eyes - as Johnny pulled out a pair of blue jeans, and a black turtle neck jumper.  
“ Here, “ He said, passing the clothes to Morrissey. “ Not your usual style but hey, maybe this will be a start of something new, eh? “ Johnny spoke, trying to be positive. 

Morrissey begun fiddling with the jeans, checking the size on the inside of them.  
“ Oh... “ he gasped, his cheeks beaming with pinks, again. Johnny made a confused face. “ don’t worry, they’re baggy on me so they’ll just be like tight jeans on you! “ Johnny smiled, shocked to see the singers face still not soften.  
“ I don’t... “ He mumbled, his gaze still trailed to the carpet. “ I don’t usually wear tight jeans... “

Johnny raised his brow, eying Morrissey.  
“ That’s ok, right? “ He asked, watching as the singer eyed him nervously.  
“ Yes, “ He laughed out, anxiously.  
“ I’m just being silly, don’t mind me. “ was the last thing he said before he disappeared into the bathroom, to presumably get changed. 

When Johnny thought about it, he never actually had seen Morrissey sport anything but baggy jeans. Was the singer insecure of his lower body? If so - why? He had a great body... Johnny thought to himself. 

“ Johnny?... “ He heard the singer’s voice call from the bathroom, shyly.  
“ You ok, Mozzer? “ Johnny called back. He heard Morrissey fidget in the other room. “ Can you promise me not to laugh? “ Morrissey pleaded, his voice quiet and unsure. Johnny pulled a confused face to himself. Why was Morrissey thinking he would laugh? What was their to laugh at?  
“ Johnny, are you still there? “ Morrissey called out, catching the guitarist off guard. 

“ I won’t laugh, I promise. “ Johnny assured the singer, standing idly as he awaited Morrissey’s reappearance.  
He heard Morrissey grumble something to himself before the door opened, revealing the singer’s form. 

Johnny would be lying if he said he wasn’t shocked, that was for sure. Who knew the singer had a even better body than he’d thought. Morrissey should definitely wear tight clothes more often.

Morrissey stood there, bashfully as he awaited a response from Johnny. He clasped his hands together, beginning to twiddle his thumbs.  
“ I don’t look like a joke, do I? “ The singer asked, swallowing thickly. Johnny shook his head enthusiastically.  
“ You look... “ Johnny mumbled, getting a bit lost in the more defined figure of his bandmate than usual. Johnny cleared his throat, clasping a hand on his long neck.  
“ Cool. “ He commented, dumbly. 

Cool? Really, Johnny? Cool?!? For fucks sake. Why did he say that? 

“ Oh... “ Morrissey trailed, his slender fingers tapping his chin. “ I suppose that’s because I’m wearing your clothes, isn’t it? You always look undeniably cool. “ Morrissey gushed, smiling foolishly.  
Johnny couldn’t help but break out into a grin. “ Anyway - we need to be heading to the studio. “ Johnny stated, watching as the singer’s eyes widened.

“ Oh yes, of course! “ He replied, spinning around to look for his notebook. 

Oh. Fuck. Now it made sense. Morrissey’s ass was... very sizeable, and nice. Dear god - Johnny could only imagine how great it would be to grope and squeeze Morrissey’s ass, hearing the singer gasp and moan as he did so. Johnny suddenly felt his jeans tighten, along with his throat.

“ Johnny? “ Morrissey spoke up, sheepishly. Johnny’s eyes ( which were currently glued onto the singer’s ass ) fluttered over to the back of Morrissey’s head.  
“ Yes? “ He cleared his throat, fiddling with his shirt collar. Morrissey, still on his hands and knees, fumbling through the mess on the floor for his notebook, bobbed his backside in the air slightly. Was the man... taunting him? Or was he just extra enthusiastic with his searching? 

Morrissey finally stood up, making Johnny feel a strong sense of disappointment and relief. 

“ I can’t seem to find my notebook, “ He announced, sadly. 

Johnny couldn’t help but telepathically beg Morrissey to turn and face him. He was scared of what he might do if he was to be teased any longer by such a magnificent ass. 

“ Oh... uhm, “ Johnny muttered, pathetically. Morrissey turned his head so he could see Johnny. “ I think it’s in my car, don’t worry. “ He finally said, smiling. Morrissey let out a sigh of relief.  
“ Thank you, dear Johnny. “ The singer said. Johnny knew they had to leave before he said or did something... questionable so he told Morrissey they had to go to the studio. 

Morrissey nodded in agreement, following Johnny wilfully downstairs, and into his car. 

God. That was a good save. Johnny thought to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> o-0 I swear I’ll get into serious, interesting stuff in the next chapter. For now - here’s Johnny admiring Morrissey’s ass.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to do a chapter based around Johnny’s perspective !! Hope you guys like it.

Johnny’s P.O.V

It had recently come to my attention that my mind had been running rapid with stupid, stupid thoughts. I certainly wasn’t gay, maybe just attracted to the idealistic structure of general beauty. I had never ever, ever been attracted to a man before. I still am yet to experience this. 

Well... maybe that was a bit of a lie. 

Surely Morrissey didn’t count, right?

No. No. Of course not. Morrissey was anything but masculine, I could fight you on that. He’d always giggle and play with his ridiculous hair when I would crack a halfhearted, pathetic excuse of a joke. God. I just couldn’t explain the climbing, clattering, biting and tearing of anger that flowed through my insides when he’d lock eyes with me on stage - prancing around in that pompous way of his. 

He was infuriating. 

I could never tell him this, but his actions were rather embarrassing. I loved him, he was my best mate and I’d do anything to see him happy, however, I just couldn’t help feeling furious when he’d wear those loud loutish outfits as he’d lick those ruby coloured lips. Far far too many times, may I add. He’d also flutter those pretty eyes of his. They weren’t grey... not quite blue. Something very... awkward and hard to pinpoint. That’s why he suited them, I suppose. 

He was just so very awkward. 

I have no idea as to why I’m even thinking about him right now, I truly don’t. Maybe it was because he was sprawled out next to me, half of his face covered in my black turtle neck. Maybe that was it. 

“ Thank god for that. “ Andy sighed into the otherwise glum room. I watched carefully as Moz pulled down the bit of fabric on his face. He was now leaning forward, excitedly. “ Is it done? “ I heard Moz ask in that same old pretentious tone of his. Even those who loved him thought his voice was rather cocky. I sometimes wondered how someone from Manchester could sound so eloquent. 

“ The instrumental, yeah. Mike’s just doing some extra touches. “ Andy confirmed, he was now sitting opposite to me and Morrissey. Moz rose his heavy set brows in approval. Those damn eyebrows were larger than life, I swear. 

Andy rummaged through our small fridge, revealing a couple of beers and some chocolates. 

“ Here, “ Andy said to me before he chucked a can into my hands. I saw Moz flinch from the side of my eye. I dread to think how he’d act during a fight. 

“ Thanks. “ I then opened the beer and gulped it down, viscously. Despite my eye’s being closed, I just knew Morrissey was probably judging me. It was a part of his self righteous personality. He would bellow here and there about how he’s “ above all that “ or whatever that means. I always thought it was a load of bull. 

“ You drink like a fish. “ Morrissey tutted, eying me in the exact same way I knew far too well. I rolled my eyes, maybe a bit too dramatically. Of course I cared for the fool, but sometimes he was just undeniably annoying and white nighty. 

“ Everyone has their different kicks. “ I replied, smugly. I watched as Moz squinted his eyes at me. Ugh. Why’d he have to be so innocent? I wish I could ruin him, you know? No. No. Not like that, sick bastard. I just wanted to humanise him, to show him what fun truly was. Not flowers, crying, girl pop and poetry. It really baffled me how someone could lead such a life, let alone a “ man “ . 

“ I’ll drink to that! “ I heard Andy chime in. 

Moz wrinkled his nose in disgust. 

“ You two are bad for each other... “ He mumbled under his breath, his jaw jutted out even more so than usual. 

What was Moz even on about? It was completely normal to drink at such a young age. 

I shook my head and found myself glaring at the boy for some odd reason. “ Why can’t you just stop being such a fucking pansy for one bloody second?!? “ I spat out, a bit too angrily. Even Andy looked shocked. Morrissey’s eyes widened in surprise. My face fell. 

Andy buried his head in his hands, making a disappointed groaning sound. 

I don’t know why i’m so angry, I really don’t. A day ago I was practically cradling Moz in my arms, and now I found my blood boiling at the very sight of his coy face. I watched guiltily as tears welled up in Moz’s eyes. Fuck. I’d really done it now. 

Andy glared at me expectantly as Morrissey began to tremble. 

I do feel bad, I really do. It’s just so annoying how sensitive he is at times, you know? Of course I feel a strange pang of pain in my chest when I see his pretty little eyes sparkle with tears, but I know better than to fall victim to his fragile form. I know it’s always better to treat him as such. A man. Not a delicate little flower. 

I shook my head. 

“ Hey... “ I whispered. I already wanted to kick myself for speaking to him like this. He was a fucking grown man for gods sake. 

Morrissey didn’t even look at me.

I let out a long sigh, sharing a unsure glance with Andy.

I tried to say something but Morrissey was up and off like a rocket. I watched in defeat as his awkwardly long frame scampered out of the studio. 

Fuck. What do I do now? He was supposed to be recording his vocals soon. 

“ What the fuck were you thinkin, Johnny?!? “ Andy roared at me. He was right. What the fuck was I thinking? 

I pinched the bridge of my nose, angrily. 

“ Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I’m sorry. “ I found myself mumbling. 

Andy sighed loudly. I knew I was in for a walloping when he sighed like that. 

“ I’m not the one who needs to hear that. Grow a pair and go and find him. For fucks sake. “ Andy sounded so fucking done with me at this point. I simply just complied and got up from where I was sitting. 

I rolled my leather jacket’s sleeves up and fixed my hair slightly. 

“ Tell Stephen I won’t be long. “ I shouted back at Andy, as I ran off to go look for Moz.

I honestly had no clue where Morrissey had went, to tell you the truth. The man was full of many, many mysteries. It annoyed a handful of people. Even me. 

I went to go head for the trees until I heard a sniffle, much like the one I heard a day ago. 

“ Morrissey? “ I called out, resting my hands on the gritty wall. 

I heard a hiccup and a stifle of a sob. 

I’m sure Morrissey is just behind this wall, he has to be. I cautiously stepped behind the wall, surprisingly not seeing Moz at all. 

Their was a shuffle and a sigh that sounded much clearer this time. 

I furrowed my brows as I clambered over the thorny bushes. I was relieved to find Morrissey sitting on the dirt of the grass. I wasn’t too pleased to see the pitiful look on his face as tears cascaded down his blotchy cheeks. 

I let out a long, shaky sigh. 

“ Moz, I’m so sorry... “ I pleaded. 

Morrissey didn’t look up at me at all. I think he was scared to. 

I took a not so comfortable seat next to him and tried again, 

“ What I said was completely out of order and I’m truly sorry, ok? “

I watched closely as Morrissey wiped his nose on the sleeve of my black turtle neck. 

“ please talk to me? “ I started to sound so fucking whiny. I just really feel bad seeing him like this. 

Moz let out a shaky sigh and ran a dreary hand through his obnoxious quiff. 

“ I don’t understand. I really don’t. One minute you’re this, then you’re that. I know I’m not easy, maybe even cripplingly difficult but you aren’t usually like this. “ Morrissey strained out, now hugging his knees close to his chest. 

I sat and stared for a moment, trying to process all he had just said. 

“ I don’t know what’s going on with me, either. I haven’t seen Angie in awhile nor have I slept much. I just feel a bit antsy but that doesn’t mean I should’ve taken it out on you, Moz. “ 

I wasn’t lying. Not at all. I had essentially no sleep for the past few days, possessed by worry for the very man in front of my eyes. I missed Angie, too. God, I really did. I missed her pretty eyes and her late night ramblings... 

“ I forgive you. “ Moz mumbled, forcing a smile upon those magnificent lips of his. I finally got a chance to catch his eyes, those pretty, pretty eyes. I hated to see Moz cry, but those glittery tears made his royal blue eyes that much more breathtaking. 

I smiled back, edging closer to Morrissey. 

I had no idea why - but Moz’s breath seemed to hitch at the small notion of me being ever so slightly closer to him. A beautiful pink drenched his cheeks as he licked his lips, and stared almost longingly back into my eyes. 

I felt my heart beat profusely, rattling my ribcage as my hands found themselves travelling to Moz’s thighs. 

Morrissey gasped, his eyes batting upwards momentarily. 

“ Johnny?... “ He yelped, clenching his teeth in embarrassment.

“ Can I... “ My grasp tightened around Moz’s thighs, my face now a breath away from Morrissey’s.

Morrissey gulped, loudly. His eyes were laced with something I’d never seen them posses before. It excited me.

“ Dearest Johnny, are you... sure? “ Morrissey asked me, his long fingers trailing the structure of my face. I couldn’t help but lean into his tactile hands. 

I refused to answer him, I couldn’t bear to utter the words out loud. 

Morrissey was now frowning, a question on the tip of his tongue. 

I leant in and kissed his cheek, my eyes fluttering up to his. We barely had done anything and Moz was already melting at my touch. 

“ Oh, Johnny, I love you so much. “ 

I suddenly froze, my eyes presumably popping out of my skull. 

He... loved me? As in... Don’t tell me. Oh god. I’m going to be fucking sick. 

Morrissey must’ve noticed what he had said because now he was biting at his nails, something he only ever did when he was terrified. 

“ Johnny, forget what I said, I wasn’t thinking! “ Moz pleaded, his eyes beginning to well with even more tears. 

I couldn’t bring myself to answer him. I was frozen in shock. 

Morrissey took my hand, kissing it almost apologetically. Why he thought this of all things would make the situation any better, I couldn’t tell you. 

“ Please... “ His voice begun to wobble. 

I have no idea why I felt I should, but I wanted to punch him. 

Moz wrapped his arms around my waist, his head now nestling in the crook of my neck. 

I tried my very best to act as though I didn’t enjoy what he was doing, for that would only egg him on with his insane fantasy’s about us somehow being together further. He should’ve known I was completely and utterly devoted to Angie, and Angie only. 

I felt Morrissey’s hot tears dance down my neck, wincing at the sudden sensation. 

“ Johnny, please don’t - please don’t hate me... “ He wailed against my body, I even felt the vibrations of his voice seep into my insides. 

I let out a sigh after god knows how long of being completely frozen. 

Morrissey looked up at me with sorrowful eyes, tears fountaining out of them. 

I did what I felt I should do, and that was stroke his hair as I hushed him. 

“ I’m sorry... I know you just meant it in a friendly way, I’m sorry. “ I lied, placing a kiss on Moz’s forehead. Morrissey was still trembling underneath me. I frowned. 

“ Thank you for understanding, I’ve been so very foolish. “ He babbled, now tugging at my leather jacket as he let out a hoarse cry. 

God. I’d never seen him in such a state before.

I felt Morrissey relax against me, finally. 

“ Thank you... “ Moz spoke up, breathlessly.

Oh shit. Recording vocals. The Studio. Stephen.

“ Morrissey, we really have to be heading back to the Studio. You have vocals to record. “ I announced, dryly. 

Moz let out a knowing sigh. 

“ Alright, “ He mumbled, unwrapping his arms from around me to stand up shakily. I smiled sheepishly and got up, also. 

And with that, we were on our way back to the studio.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johnny’s thoughts about Morrissey rear their head, once more.

Morrissey knew how much of a fumbling fool he had been throughout the past few days. He noticed the abundance of times he had cried, the handful of times he had said far too much for comfort. He knew, but he couldn’t stop. Johnny’s golden brown eyes were orbiting in his mind, day and night. Oh, and the way he so tentatively cradled him some time ago. 

Johnny had caught onto his pathetic feelings, he was sure of it. Their was just no way he believed that they were simply empty words from a friend. It made Morrissey’s insides rise with anxiety, making him want to bash his head against a wall until a waterfall of blood doused the floor. Oh, to be dead right now. Morrissey thought. He wished he could find some sort of way out of this mess, it was all he wanted. He was fully aware of how delusional it would be to chase after a life with Johnny. Even so, he still longed for the guitarist and his everlasting love. 

Johnny mauve harboured some extent of physical attraction towards the singer, but at the end of the day, his heart was clutched tightly by Angie and Angie only. Morrissey let out a long, shaky sigh. Why must Love be so difficult? Why must we want the ones we can’t have? He thought, rather profusely. 

“ Oi, Mozzer, what’s up? “ 

Morrissey’s eyes pricked with worry as he, all of a sudden, was brought back to reality. 

Johnny squinted his eyes judgementally, his fingers gripping the neck of his guitar. 

Morrissey licked his lips, readjusting his thick glasses on the bridge of his nose. 

“ Sorry, “ He murmured, itching his throat. 

Johnny let out a almost annoyed sigh, rolling those glittery eyes of his. 

“ It’s ok...“ He trailed, continuing to pluck away effortlessly at his guitar board. 

Johnny never failed to make the most mystical, alluring sounds from even just a halfhearted pull of a string. He was so very underrated, in every way possible. Morrissey couldn’t help but find himself gushing over the guitarist, for he was just so talented and spectacular. Even if Johnny played something that was otherwise disposable, maybe a bit naff he’d probably still find himself finding it beautiful. Maybe Morrissey was ever so slightly bias when it came to rating the guitarist’s ability. 

Johnny now had a cigarette perched in the corner of his unusual, but nicely shaped lips. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, now playing the beginning of Hand In Glove as he whipped his black hair out of his eyes.

Morrissey began to smile, widely. 

“ Hand in glove... the sun shines out of our behinds. “ 

Johnny shot a grin towards Morrissey, encouraging him to continue. 

“ No, it’s not like any other love, this one is different because it’s us... “

Morrissey patted his knee, watching Johnny with bright eyes. 

“ Hand in glove, we can go wherever we please, and everything depends upon how near you stand to me. “ 

Johnny looked up into Morrissey’s royal blue eyes, a devilish expression painting his features. It made Morrissey’s chest tighten. 

“ And if the people stare, then the people stare. “ 

Johnny raised his eyebrows, biting down tighter at his cigarette. 

“ Ohh, I really don’t know and I really don’t care. “ 

They both burst into laughter. 

“ God, I love that song. “ Johnny announced, placing his prized possession guitar on the available seat next to him.  
“ Oh, yes. Who made it again? “ Morrissey sarcastically remarked, his grin widening as he watched Johnny swing his head back in mock annoyance. 

“ Some disco band who live off ecstasy and sex, solely. “ Johnny playfully responded. Morrissey rolled his eyes. “ Remember when you serenaded me at my door? “ Morrissey asked, excitedly. Johnny finally took the cigarette in-between his slender fingers, taking a drag before his eyes fluttered back to The singer’s. “ OH, yea! “ he giggled, flicking his fluffy fringe from his angelic eyes once more. “ I had played the tune to myself at my parent’s house, knowing their was something in it. I was terrified I’d lose it so I just kept on playing it, over and over! “ Johnny reminded Morrissey. 

Morrissey watched with heavy eyes as the guitarist took another drag from his cigarette, his cheeks hallowing. It drove Morrissey fucking mad, it made him feel things he was far too embarrassed to admit. 

“ I knew you had cassettes so I clambered into Angie’s car, still playing it, all the way to your house. I remember being on your doorstep, praying to fucking god it wasn’t one of the very few times you chose to go out. “

Morrissey let out a slightly embarrassed laugh, burying his head in his hands. 

“ Oh, God, “ He mumbled, looking at Johnny through a gap between his fingers. “ I suppose that was one of the few times my disconnect from the outside world had been for the better. “ Morrissey mused, his hands now placed in his lap. 

Johnny smiled sweetly, running a hand through his wonderful hair. God. Morrissey would do anything to run his fingers through it. 

“ I wonder what the hell you must’ve thought when I was there, standing on your doorstep, plucking away like a mad man. “ Johnny chimed in, looking up at the ceiling as he recalled the interaction. 

“ I was surprisingly not shocked, at all. “ Morrissey admitted. 

Johnny stubbed out his cigarette on the table, flicking it into a bin. 

“ wow, “ The guitarist breathed, rubbing at his clumpy eyes. “ I suppose that says a lot about what kind of person I am, eh? “ Johnny retorted, his eyes now examining Morrissey’s face rather intently. 

Morrissey had no idea why, but he swore he saw Johnny look at his lips with a almost... longing? No. That’s just stupid. 

“ Oh, Johnny, dearest I never meant it like that! “ Morrissey exclaimed, his eyes wide and gleaming under the dim light of the studio. 

Johnny felt those same thoughts from a week ago arise, again. The vision of Morrissey’s beautiful, Cupid bow lips being swollen from kisses as his eyes laced with hunger, flicker up to him. His body would probably be trembling with need, and want. The very thought alone got Johnny’s bloody boiling. 

The guitarist cleared his throat, pulling at his collar as his eyes darted around the room anxiously. 

Morrissey was looking at him with worry, his lips agape and heavy brows furrowed. 

“ Johnny? “ He called out, shyly. 

Oh, and that incredible ass of his. It was so womanly, in a way. Maybe that’s why Johnny liked it, so he hoped. 

“ I’ve gotta go, sorry. “ 

Well - fuck. He had no excuse now, did he? It wasn’t because of lack of sleep, lack of Angie. It was something more. Something he’d rather not brush shoulders with. 

Johnny felt those annoyingly beautiful, electric blue eyes burning into the back of his head as he left.

He had to rid these god awful thoughts from his mind before he was physically sick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one’s pretty short and dull but... hope you like it !!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter literally took me fucking ages so comments would literally be my lifeline !!

Tonight was something Morrissey felt immense dread over. He never liked going out and probably never would, but much to his dismay, he had already agreed on this arrangement. Him, Johnny, Andy and Mike were all going out to a pub to celebrate completing their newest album.  
This made sense, of course, it was a very normal and humanly thing to do. Unfortunately, Morrissey fell into the latter of something entirely new. He never really felt human, he reckoned if aliens truly existed, they’d get on tremendously. 

Morrissey was eying himself dubiously in-front of his mirror. He had a New York Doll’s vinyl looming on in the background as he jelled his hair into his signature quiff, attentively. He was so very anxious for tonight, for various reasons. One being Johnny Marr, obviously. Another being that public outings were... simply not his style, whatsoever. 

Morrissey ran his hands down his body, eying himself up and down from the mirror. He was wearing tight black jeans, a see-through button up shirt and some ever so slightly, heeled boots. He was making extra effort tonight, for no reason, obviously. Who was he kidding? He was making tremendous effort for the very, very silly reason of wanting to catch Johnny’s eye. 

Morrissey watched his reflection frown back at him. 

Every time he tried to cram his feelings into the very depths of his heart’s cellar, Johnny would do something peculiar that would give Morrissey a sense of hope. He could’ve sworn Johnny felt something... or maybe he was becoming deluded by a fog of false hope. He had no idea, really. Maybe if Johnny was upfront with his large detest for the singer, he could just lock away his feelings, cry alone and write poetry about unrequited love. Maybe it wouldn’t be as easy as Morrissey made out, but it would certainly water down some of the tension in the air, right?

These thoughts carried their way through Morrissey’s brisk walking, to his arrival at the very pub he was terrified of being at.  
It was thankfully rather quiet, much to Morrissey’s benefit.

Morrissey wedged himself into a booth that had been reserved for them, tapping nervously on the table as he awaited all of his bandmate’s arrivals.

Mike and Andy were the first ones to arrive, seemingly together. They both had this joyous look on their faces that almost made Morrissey jealous, in a way. 

“ Hey, mate! “ Andy roared, slapping Morrissey on his shoulder. Morrissey itched the back of his head, gingerly smiling back at the bassist.  
“ Hello, Andy. “ Morrissey replied in a almost hushed tone, licking his lips in that usual fashion of his. Mike began to pout, angling those dark brows of his as he gestured to himself. Morrissey rolled his eyes, sighing into the palm of his hand.  
“ Hello, Mike. “ He spoke, rather dryly. 

Andy and Mike exchanged pleased looks. 

“ I’m so proud, “ Mike announced, making a dumb face. “ He’s finally learning basic social skills! “ The drummer joked, pretending to wipe a fake tear from his eye. Andy and Mike both began to snicker, loudly. Morrissey wasn’t very impressed, he just shot a scornful expression as he dramatically closed his eyes tightly, in fake anguish. 

“ Right, well, I’m off to the bar to order us drinks! “ Andy announced, his green eyes gleaming. Morrissey nodded in approval, deciding not to ask why they weren’t waiting on Johnny first. Mike patted Andy on the shoulder and then the bassist scurried off hyperbolically. 

Mike took a seat opposite to Morrissey, right at the far end of the booth. 

“ No Johnny? “ Morrissey just simply couldn’t help himself, he had to be sure that he was still coming. He had spent far too much effort on his appearance tonight just for him to be some rundown, third wheel. 

“ Oh, don’t worry, your dearest Johnny is still coming! “ Mike assured the singer, giving him a almost teasing look which didn’t go unnoticed by Morrissey.

“ Oh, please, spare me. “ Morrissey tutted, shaking his head in annoyance. 

Mike rolled his eyes at the singer’s over the top attitude. 

“ Oh, come on, I was only pulling your leg! “ The drummer explained, flashing Morrissey a toothy smile. 

“ Please don’t ever, ever pull my leg again or I shall pull those oversized ears of yours to hell and back. “ Morrissey said, his head whipping to the side for emphasis. 

Mike began to laugh at how catty the singer was being. 

“ You are well funny, mate. People should give you more credit. “ He complimented.

Before Morrissey could retort with another snarky comment, Johnny had arrived and was now scooting up next to Mike. 

The golden eyes of the guitarist couldn’t help but lure on Morrissey’s frame, taking in his beauty. He looked amazing tonight, well, he always did but their was just something about his choice in clothes that was getting Johnny all hot and bothered. It was probably the fact that what he was wearing was see-through. The way he could see the pinks of the singer’s nipples was driving him nuts. He would always have to clench his teeth whenever he was met with Morrissey’s bare upper body. It would usually happen on stage, Morrissey all sweaty as he sang and yelped into the microphone, circling Johnny like a shark with that ridiculously endearing dance of his. Johnny had lost track of the amount of times he had almost grabbed Morrissey to utterly destroy him right on blasted stage of all places. His eyes were always dilated and begging for Johnny’s touch, those perfectly shaped lips screaming for a good kiss. God. He was giving into those stupid thoughts again. 

“ Johnny? “ 

Fuck. Did he not say hello? 

Luckily, Andy was trudging back with a tray of four beers in hand before Johnny could make a even bigger fool of himself. Thank fucking Christ for Andy Rourke. Johnny thought to himself. 

Everyone thanked Andy politely for the beer, and began gulping down the drink rather quickly. Well, except for Morrissey, who was taking timid sips. Delicate little flower boy and all that. 

“ I’m so excited for when we find out what the fans think about our new album! “ Andy exclaimed, that impish smile of his widening as the words rolled out. 

Morrissey smiled to himself, running a hand through his hair. 

“ Oh, yes, I’m terribly excited. “ The singer mused, his eyes glinting with passion and excitement.

As Mike, Andy and Johnny started talking amongst each-other, Morrissey found his mind racing with worry. Was there a reason as to why Johnny hadn’t said hi to him? Was it because of that odd altercation yesterday? He had no idea. Morrissey started to fiddle with the collar of his shirt, unbuttoning the very top button as if that would stop him from feeling so flushed. 

Johnny’s brown eyes, that glowed like the sun, watched as Morrissey still fiddled with his clothing. He knew he should probably say something, but he just kept on choking on his own tongue when he was met with Morrissey’s intimidatingly attractive form. God. This is fucked up. Johnny thought to himself. 

It had been a good few hours now, Johnny still not saying a single word to Morrissey. 

Morrissey was in a huff, his cheek perched on his hand as his eyes hung heavy from drink. He had no idea what to do, what to say. He just felt awful, dreadful. Had he fucked everything up with Johnny or something? Were they not even friends anymore? The thoughts kept on going, chittering and chattering constantly. Johnny wasn’t even looking at him, really. He had shared a judgemental look earlier, but avoided looking at the singer completely from then on. Maybe he shouldn’t of wore what he wore, maybe it was a bit pretentious. 

Morrissey felt his eyes begin to twinge with tears so he got up, and excused himself.

This was just too much, far too much. Morrissey gripped the bathroom sink, his knuckles now white with fury. 

Morrissey couldn’t believe how stupid he was being. He felt embarrassed as he felt tears stream down his face. He shouldn’t be this sensitive, no one should be. 

“ Mozzer? “ 

Morrissey’s eyes widened with shock horror as his entire body stiffened. 

“ Are you... ok? “ Johnny asked, clear concern present in his voice. 

The singer inhaled deeply, trying his best to mask the fact that he was crying. 

“ Peachy. “ His voice wavered slightly, Morrissey cursed himself. 

Morrissey heard footsteps echo throughout the bathroom, and then felt hands spin him around. 

He knew he was facing Johnny, so his eyes remained shut. 

“ Oh... Moz, what’s the matter? “ Johnny cooed, one of his delicate fingers wiping away a tear from Morrissey’s under-eye. 

The singer bit his lips, harshly. 

“ Please can you talk to me? “ Johnny spoke softly, his hand now rubbing circles into the small of Morrissey’s back. 

What was he supposed to say? That he was madly in love with him and hiding it was a slow, and inevitable spiral into insanity? He hadn’t a clue.

Morrissey’s eyes hesitantly fluttered open, catching with Johnny’s familiar gaze. 

Johnny’s frown deepened. 

Morrissey knew he should say something, but he couldn’t help getting lost in the guitarist’s physical form, instead. His hair was fluffy, as usual. It smelt of copious amounts of hairspray, which Morrissey rather liked. Probably because it was a part of Johnny’s quirk. 

“ I’m sorry, “ Morrissey managed to stammer out, now looking away in embarrassment. 

Johnny smiled sadly, brushing a single strand of hair from the singer’s forehead. 

“ What are you apologising for? “ He whispered, his thumb stroking Morrissey’s cheek. 

If only he could tell him just how he felt so he could finally bury the hatchet for good. 

“ I don’t know, I just feel i’ve done something terribly wrong, “

Morrissey felt himself tremble, again. 

“ I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m a mess. “ Morrissey jabbered on, his lip quivering as new tears brimmed his eyes. 

Johnny pulled the taller man into a hug. 

“ Listen, Moz, I think we should go back to your house so we can talk about this in private, ok? “ Johnny suggested, petting the back of the singer’s head soothingly. 

Morrissey was quiet for a moment.

“ Ok. “ He whispered into the crook of Johnny’s neck, sniffling after he spoke. 

Johnny was crippled by worry for his best friend. He knew Morrissey was a manic depressive so up and downs were bound to happen, it was just a matter of when. Johnny would lose days worth of sleep over the very idea of missing a important phone call from Morrissey. It was the undeniable fear of waking up, and finding out he had taken his own life because no one was there to comfort him. God. It made him feel physically ill. 

They were now both stumbling into Morrissey’s apartment, his best friend holding onto him like a lifeline.

“ Ok, you’re ok, “ Johnny purred, guiding Morrissey into the living room to then, place him onto his settee. 

Morrissey slumped into the crease of his seat, his eyes glazed with tears and drink. Johnny looked over at his singer with sadness, deciding to head to the kitchen to pour him a glass of water. 

“ Johnny, “ Morrissey slurred out, his face doused in worry.

“ Shhh, it’s ok, I’ll be right back. “

Morrissey felt so bloody foolish. He couldn’t believe the predicament he had landed himself in, it was terribly embarrassing. He shouldn’t expect Johnny to cradle him like a baby every time his paranoid thoughts get the best of him, that’s just selfish. Morrissey felt fear climb up his insides at the idea of scaring Johnny away with his neediness. He quickly shook his head, trying to refrain from crying like a bloody child, again. 

Johnny then entered the living room once more, handing Morrissey the water. Morrissey accepted the drink with a sorrowful smile. Johnny sat down next the singer, eying him anxiously. 

“ How are you feeling? “ Johnny asked, his amber eyes bright and spilling with compassion. 

“ Like I’m about to throw up my brain. “ Morrissey laughed out, sadly. 

Johnny wrapped a arm around Morrissey, his face looking thoughtful for a moment. Morrissey found himself wanting to fall into the guitarist’s lap, wanting nothing more than to be kissed tentatively and caressed by Johnny’s delicate fingers. He tried to not think about his desires for his best friend, but he just couldn’t help it. Especially not in such close proximity.

“ You should drink your water, Moz. “ Johnny suggested, his voice pulling Morrissey out of his thoughts.

Morrissey shakily brought the glass of water to his lips, trying to take a sip best he can. Much to his dismay, the majority of the water trickled down his chin. “ Oh... dear. “ Morrissey mumbled, dumbly. He tried his very best to wipe away the liquid with the back of his wrist, imagining how stupid he probably looked in the moment. Johnny watched with wide eyes as the singer fumbled rather clumsily, trying hard to remain cool and collected. Morrissey looked at Johnny shyly, his bright, dazed eyes igniting with terror.

“ Nerves, I think. “ Morrissey mumbled to himself. Johnny flicked his black fringe out of his eyes, his lips cracking into a smirk of knowing. “ You mean you’re drunk, Moz. “ Johnny chuckled, patting the singer’s chin dry with the sleeve of his turtleneck. Morrissey, however shaky and drunk he were, rolled his eyes fondly. “ I suppose you are right, I forget that alcohol has a huge delay. “ The singer admitted, now watching as Johnny continued wiping away the last bits of water left on his chin. 

“ Can we please talk? “ Johnny’s voice sounded, making Morrissey flinch slightly at the sudden tone change. Morrissey swallowed thickly, trying to hide how nervous he was. “ About what, exactly? “ Morrissey knew what Johnny was alluding to, he just didn’t want to confront the issue, especially when it was involving the guitarist himself. Johnny let out a sigh, looking up at the ceiling with those glitzy, cinnamon coloured eyes. 

“ You know what I mean, Steven. “ Johnny said in a deadpanned tone, cursing himself for sounding so annoyed. Morrissey cringed at his Christian name, notting his brows together as he scratched his shoulder anxiously. 

Morrissey considered greatly how easy it would be to just unfold right here, right now. He just wanted to say those three words with the actual intent he held deep in his heart, unveiled. He loved Johnny so much, more than life and it was killing him to deny it any longer.

“ I worry I may be losing you, Johnny. I’m not surprised, no, not really. Their is always a point in time in which - I never see those closest to me again. “ Morrissey tried to remain composed and articulate as he spoke, but he could feel the tightness constraining his breathing as the severity, and fear of the situation settled in. Johnny was now frowning deeply, his eyes illuminating with what looked to be forming tears. Morrissey would be lying if he said it didn’t make his heart sting. 

“ You aren’t losing me, ever. “ Johnny exasperated, his voice breaking slightly. Morrissey hung his head down, bashfully. 

“ I’m sorry, Johnny, I shouldn’t back you into a corner like this. “ 

Johnny pinched the bridge of his nose, deep in thought and bubbling with anxiety. 

“ Morrissey, for god fucking sake... I love you. “ 

Johnny couldn’t bear to look into his singer’s eyes, half knowing how those words may be misconstrued and in a way, wanting them to be. Morrissey felt his cheeks flush with heat, his eyebrows raised in shock. 

“ Johnny, I... “

Johnny finally locked eyes with Morrissey, noting how distraught the singer looked. Maybe he shouldn’t of said what he said.

Morrissey ran a trembling hand through his slightly matted quiff, inhaling deeply. Johnny was transfixed, in every way imaginable. He couldn’t name a single other person who pulled these feelings out of him, it was honestly scary. He wished Morrissey would bloody say something. Why must he leave him hanging like this? Did he fuck something up? 

“ Johnny, I have to be honest with you about something, “ 

“ You know you can tell me anything, Moz. “ 

Morrissey felt his heart lodge in his throat, feeling the words formulate on his tongue, as he thought and thought with great worry. He kept on thinking about the late night car rides they shared, how he’d feel nothing but pure tranquility as Johnny drove aimlessly through the dead of night. Elvis would play quietly on Johnny’s dingy car radio, a cigar perching in the corner of his mouth as he’d babble on about some new ideas he had for upcoming music. Morrissey would be unable to do anything but smile, the muscles in his face aching from how happy he would feel in those moments. Morrissey remembered one of the specific times they were driving together in which he wrote There is a light. He’d wrote furiously right next to Johnny, feeling his confused gaze upon him as he did so. 

“ What are you writing? “ 

He’d asked, pulling to the side of a curb. Morrissey had felt himself flush with worry at the idea of Johnny reading what he had written. He was worried Johnny would’ve been scared to ever drive in the same car as him again. Much to his surprise, Johnny had read it with this look in his eyes that had made Morrissey finally feel at peace with the world. 

“ No matter how hard I try, I cannot avoid the inevitable. I have tried so very hard to bury my feelings, to let things out through artistic expression but I simply can’t do it anymore. “

“ Moz, what are you talking about? “ 

Johnny knew fully well what Morrissey was on about. He was on about the way their minds fit together like a hand in glove; the way their eyes trailed for far too long, the way they laughed over things the other had said that was otherwise unfunny, the way they both felt like an addiction, constantly wanting more. This conversation was bound to come, Johnny just had to finally face up to the reality.

“ I refuse to keep on running, Johnny. I love you and I think you’d be foolish to say you don’t feel the same as I. “ 

Morrissey had no idea where this newfound confidence came from, but he certainly wasn’t complaining. He was sure that he was a deluded dullard frantically hoping that Johnny would feel the same way, but now things felt different. This night had opened his eyes. He noticed the way Johnny’s eyes bled with love, and something more Morrissey was struggling to pinpoint. He noticed everything that he hadn’t before. He was no longer going to fall victim to Johnny’s denial. 

“ Morrissey... “ 

“ Don’t even dare deny it, Johnny. I know you may lack some sort of courage but at least tell me I’m not crazy, at least give me that. “ 

Johnny hadn’t anticipated this, not at all. He never knew Morrissey had the guts to be so upfront like this, not in a million years. 

“ Even so, this is never going to work. “

It was only the truth, and he was sure Morrissey already knew this. Their could never be a shred of possibility that they would lace their hands together, and skip off merrily. Johnny loved Angie and that was the end of it.

“ Don’t say that, please. “ 

“ It’s the truth, Moz. “ 

Morrissey began to think about the boy he met on his mother’s doorstop, the boy that had saved him from slipping away. If it weren’t for Johnny, he wouldn’t be here. And to think, he’d never have ownership over Johnny’s heart made him bounce with anger and jealousy. It made him burn with rage at the idea of being the one more vulnerable, the one who loved the other the most. Yes, Johnny had Angie, but who did he have? A few scraps of small bouts of affection thrown his way from Johnny? It would never be enough, ever. He wanted the guitarist in heart, body, soul and mind. 

“ Why must you do this to me? Don’t think I had forgotten about our altercation a few weeks ago. No one can fake such a look in their eyes. “ 

Morrissey was starting to sound desperate which made him want to pull his hair out, in all honesty. He couldn’t help but be feel anger towards Johnny. 

“ I’m not trying to upset you, you know this, Moz. I’m married... I love you but- “

“ But what, You’re too ashamed to show the world it? “

This is when the pitchforks came out. This is when sadness morphed itself into a facade of anger and rage. Morrissey wanted nothing more than Johnny to be with him, to love him just as much as he did, but he was growing afraid. He was afraid he had gone far too deep only to realise this love gave nothing back to him. 

“ No, “

“ Then, What? “ 

“ I’m terrified, Morrissey. “

Morrissey found himself shuffling closer to Johnny, his eyes staring at him with nothing but expectancy of something more. He could see Johnny shift slightly, as if his body wanted to go against his words. 

“ You don’t have to be, you know you don’t. “

“ That’s easy for you to say, Moz. “

“ And what’s that supposed to mean? “

Why must Morrissey make this so hard for him? It would’ve been so much easier if he had just continued to write songs about Johnny rather than be upfront with his feelings. 

“ You know what I mean, Moz. “

“ No, I don’t. “ 

Morrissey stumbled upwards rather quickly, scampering off into the kitchen for god knows what. Johnny followed him with immense curiosity. Morrissey was now on his hands and knees, fumbling around in a cabinet underneath his kitchen sink. 

“ What are you looking for? “ 

“ Something to numb me. “ 

Morrissey revealed a bottle of gin, his eyes looking at it with some sort of twisted hope. He gulped it down far far too quickly, his face crinkling into thousands of different micro expressions of distaste. 

“ Don’t be so fucking stupid! “ 

Johnny leaped forward to grab the bottle out of Morrissey’s hands. Morrissey reacted quickly, holding the bottle high above his head with a smug smile tugging at his lips. 

“ Pity nature didn’t make you taller. “ 

Morrissey was now giggling manically, taking more swigs of gin even quicker than before to avoid Johnny stopping him.

“ I’m not going to just watch you self destruct in front of my eyes. “ 

“ Oh, please, you’ve been doing it from the day we met. “ 

Johnny felt his blood boil, he couldn’t believe he’d say such a thing. He wanted to fucking punch him, he wanted to cut his witty tongue off to stop him from saying anything else snarky. What did he expect of him?!? He was bloody married! He didn’t actually expect some sort of fairytale outcome, did he? God - he’s been letting those books falter his world view.

“ I don’t like you when you’re drunk. “

“ No, you don’t like me being unfiltered and honest. You don’t like being met with truth. You are swimming in a river of denial, Mr. Johnny Marr. “ 

He was right. Johnny was living in a bubble of lies. Every time he’d feel his insides shake with despair whenever his mind would wander to Morrissey, he’d drown himself in drink or drugs, just so he could filter the guilt it brought him. Angie would fight with him constantly, her voice shaking when she’d bring up her concern of his lack of care for his health. It would destroy him, seeing her like that. It’s not like he could do anything, was it? It wouldn’t end with a kiss, it wouldn’t end with a turn of the head, his life was destined to be filled with dread. He was in love with his best friend. A hermit; a singer, a manic depressive, a genius, a poet and his other half. He couldn’t deny it any longer. 

Morrissey was eying him with a stoic expression that he never used to posses. He used to look at Johnny with some sort of knowing, some sort of thankfulness and innocence. It was, of course, a facade but it still hurt. He just wished they could be what they used to be, simply friends with not a single care in the world. 

“ What the fuck am I supposed to do? Their is no right thing to do in this situation, it will all end in tears no matter what I choose. “ 

“ Just let it happen, you will regret it if you don’t. “ 

Morrissey stepped closer, swaying slightly. His stature was all disheveled, his eyes laced with a pool of lust and childishness that made Johnny’s insides ripple with fear. The taller man’s pupils were the size of saucers, Johnny noted as he examined further. God. He was fucking smashed. Johnny watched with nerves as Morrissey abandoned the bottle of gin, before he took a step even closer. 

“ You’re drunk. “ 

“ No, I’m in love. “

Morrissey leaned forward, his hands travelling to Johnny’s shoulders as he moved his cupid bow lips to the other man’s neck, beaming with something dirty and needy. He wanted to watch Johnny break and crumble in-front of his eyes, just as he had done to him for all the years he’d known him. 

“ Moz... “

“ Shh, let this happen, please? “ 

Johnny shouldn’t of been surprised when he felt Morrissey’s lip on his, but he was. He was dizzy with tension and hunger, nothing mattering more than the rhythmic movements of their mouths against each other. Johnny could hear Morrissey moaning and groaning into him, his knees weak with pleasure and giddiness. Oh and when that magnificent tongue of Morrissey’s grazed against his teeth, he couldn’t help but allow him to flick at the roof of his mouth eagerly, desperate to feel as close as he possibly could with Morrissey. Was he really doing this? Was he really allowing this? He thought as he whipped Morrissey around against the counter, taking full control. the other man yelped in shock, parting himself from the other’s lips to gasp for air. 

“ Ah, Johnny... “ 

“ Shhh, “

Johnny pulled him back into a bruising kiss, feeling nothing more than the blood rush to his head as he gave into his sultry wants and desires. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, but when he felt Morrissey sigh in longing against him, he knew this is what he needed. Maybe Johnny couldn’t fulfil his need for a relationship, but he could at least give him a flavour. Morrissey was now bucking his hips up into Johnny, causing the guitarist to moan with desire. 

“ You’re driving me insane... “

“ Now you know how it feels, “ 

They both were breathless, heaving against each other’s form. Morrissey’s eyes fluttered to the ceiling in bliss as his beautiful lips hung in the shape of a ‘ Oh ‘ Johnny felt himself come down from the adrenaline of it all, realising how badly he had fucked up. 

“ I think we should stop. “ 

“ ...Why? “ 

Johnny stared down vacantly at his hands that were cradling Morrissey’s hips, almost as if he’d forgotten that he’d put them there. 

“ I’m being reckless, we both are. “

“ And? “

“ It’s not right, Moz. “ 

Morrissey’s eyes shifted from lustful, to sad in a heartbeat. He shyly kissed Johnny’s lips, not in a hungry way, in a almost tooth rot-tingly sweet way that said ‘ I love you ‘ in more ways than words could ever. 

“ I’m sorry, Johnny... “ 

Johnny was now rubbing up and down at the sides of Morrissey’s hips, his eyes still casted down shamefully onto the kitchen floor. 

“ I think I’m in love with you, too. “

He felt Morrissey freeze against him. 

“ This is not just the drink talking, is it? “

“ I wish. “ 

“ Oh, “ 

Johnny didn’t remember when, but he started to cry. He buried his head in the other’s neck, which was a huge switch in dynamics in their relationship. Morrissey pulled him in close, stroking his hair as Johnny shook against him uncontrollably. 

“ I’m sorry for everything, Moz. “

“ No one chooses who they fall for, my darling. “ 

Johnny let out a soft chuckle that vibrated against Morrissey’s chest. 

“ You never say anything without that poetic flare of yours, do you? “ 

“ It’s become a part of me, I’m afraid. “

“ don’t be. I like it. “

Morrissey smiled to himself, glad to hear Johnny calming down. 

“ I think I’ve always been drawn to you, you know. “ 

“ Oh, really? “ 

“ Yea... you and your annoyingly endearing self, all brooding and mysterious only to be unveiled as a flower loving delicacy. “ 

Morrissey snorted at that comment, placing a kiss against the guitarist’s bed of fluffy hair. 

“ Someone better put that on my grave. “

“ Oh, I’m sure they will. “ 

Johnny now looked up at Morrissey, his eyes wide and bloodshot as he stared back adoringly. The taller man wiped away the tears that glazed Johnny’s cheeks, and under eyes as if he was repaying him from earlier. 

“ You have the most wonderful eyes, Johnny. “ 

Johnny laughed in disbelief, swinging his arms around Morrissey’s neck.

“ Everybody loves a boring brown, don’t they? “

Morrissey rolled his eyes, his lips upturned in knowing. 

“ They aren’t just simply brown, they’re golden with freckles of amber, and dark shades of green. They’re... mesmeric. “ 

Morrissey’s hand was now clasping Johnny’s cheek as he closely examined the guitarist’s eyes. Johnny couldn’t help but blush at the other’s remark, even if he already expected some poetic compliment. 

“ That bloody tongue of yours, I swear. “

“ And in which way do you mean that? “

“ In every way conceivable. “

Morrissey was now smiling, rather smugly. 

“ Stop that. “

“ Stop what? “

“ That thing you do. “

“ Please, enlighten me. “

“ That thing you do where you smile like a cheshire Cat, all pleased and cocky. “

Morrissey tutted in fake annoyance, kissing Johnny on the cheek apologetically. He knew he was letting all this go to his head a bit, but could he really help it? Morrissey had spent far too long being the one who was left all blushing and embarrassed, now those roles were finally switched, he wanted nothing more than to bask in it. 

“ I can’t help it, “ 

“ Whatever. “

They spent a few moments of silence, staring into each other’s eyes as their hands traveled, rather tentatively. They wanted to cherish every single second of this moment, for it was probably the only time they could be like this. 

“ We should head to bed, “ 

Johnny quirked a brow, a smirk painting his face. 

“ Oh! Get your head out of the gutter, Johnny. “ 

Morrissey exclaimed, fake punching the guitarist in retort. 

“ Sorry, I couldn’t help it. “

“ You’re lucky you’re so terribly charming, Johnny. “ 

After a bit of a back and forth, they finally went into Morrissey’s bedroom. They both were rather dazed in more ways the one, so it was a bit of a matter of stumbling and fumbling. Constant teasings of ‘You’re so bloody drunks’

“ I keep on forgetting how sad your bedroom looks. “ 

“ Oh, please, what else would you expect from such a terrible tragedy of nature? “

“ Fair point. “

They both clambered into bed together, pulling the cold sheets over their far too flushed forms. 

“ Goonight, Johnny. “

“ Night, Moz. “

And with that, they fell asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long, long time coming, huh? Sorry about that... really hope this ending is up to par !!! Would love to hear your thoughts on it’s ending xx

The glaring of the sun was rich and beauteous. It’s golden flares engulfed Morrissey’s room like a warm hug, the radiance bouncing off of the walls. There was a nose crinkling scent of gin in the air, amidst the smell of heavy smoke and sweat.

Johnny had his legs crossed, a cigar perched in the corner of his thin set lips. He had found himself sitting in silence in a chair across from Morrissey’s sleeping form, lost in a train of deep thought. He didn’t really have much time to take in Morrissey’s room last-night, as he had bigger fish to fry as opposed to the state of his best friend’s room. He surely had plenty of time now, though. There was a endlessness of sheets of paper scattering the floor, which was rather peculiar for the usual neat freak. It really framed the madness of Morrissey’s mind in the recent weeks.

It was far, far easier to examine the state of your best friend’s room than to think of the passionate kisses you shared the night prior. Johnny still couldn’t believe it, if he was being honest. There would always be the odd couple times in which they’d peck each other on the cheek, affectionately kiss ones hand through a blurred vision of tears, but this was something more. Johnny knew it was. Morrissey knew it was. He tried relentlessly to push the image of his wife’s pretty face to the back of his head, but he just couldn’t. He kept on thinking of the way her icy blue eyes gleamed in the sun when he’d turn to her, his hand laced with her’s. God. He had really fucked up.

“ Johnny? “

The guitarist was quickly pulled back into reality by the sudden sound of his friend’s almost exotic sounding voice. It was honestly rather ridiculous, the way a Manchester man sounded so eloquent and posh. He thought to himself.

“ Yea, Moz? “

Morrissey pursed his heart shaped lips, the tint of ruby red they possessed shimmering beautifully. Oh, and his eyes. Jellyfish blue, coated with small fragments of cerulean and whites, bleary as he rubbed them with his fists. They were gorgeous, glitzy and waltzing like a crystal in the beams of the sun. Much like Angie’s, maybe even better. No, no, no, stop that! Johnny quickly scolded himself for such a thought. Morrissey ran a hand through his bed tussled hair, as if he felt Johnny’s Judging stare.

“ You aren’t leaving, are you? “

Johnny froze, taken aback by the question as he put out his cigar, and flicked it into the bin.

He wasn’t leaving - yet he still felt guilt arise in the pit of his stomach. As his gaze wondered back to Morrissey’s form, he noted how vulnerable he looked as he awaited the guitarist’s answer. As he had said before, he knew this was never going to end with a kiss, or a blind turn of the head. It was a inevitable disaster, there was no right way. Johnny was fully aware of Morrissey’s abandonment issues, probably more than anyone. Ever since his Dad had left him at the young age of 17, he vowed that he was destined to be thrown away like last weeks newspaper by anybody he grew to like to any degree.

Johnny had promised Morrissey that HE was different and that HE was the one he could finally trust. He wasn’t about to turn around and shatter the man’s spirit. Never.

“ No, not yet. “

“ Then... when? “

Morrissey was propping himself up on his gangly elbows, his head tilted and bushy eyebrows cocked in the air, trying to look confident. He wasn’t. His whole body was shaking and that odd lip licking thing he did had increased alarmingly.

“ That I can’t say. Just don’t think about it. Not now. Ok? “

Morrissey seemed to relax at that, his eyes shutting softly as his nostrils flared, a long sigh escaping from them.

“ Ok. “

Johnny smiled, walking over to the singer so he could sit in front of him on the bed.

Morrissey peered up adoringly into Johnny’s jaded, cinnamon eyes. He reached his rather large hand out, and brushed his long fingers across the other’s cheek, looking rather disorientated as he did so.

“ Moz? “

“ mmm... “

Johnny couldn’t help but bask in the delicate touches of his best friend, enjoying the way Morrissey touched him with care and gentleness, as if he may break at any moment.

“ Are you ok, Moz? “

Morrissey whipped his head back up, his hand frozen idly on the guitarist’s cheek.

“ Am I ever? What does it matter, anyway? “

Johnny couldn’t help staring at the way his mouth curled and his lips bounced as he spoke, it was rather interesting. The tonality of his voice didn’t go unnoticed, not at all. Crestfallen underneath the ‘ I’m fine. ‘ facade he’d put on.

Johnny rested his hand upon the singer’s shoulder, watching his eyes shift from vacant to wondrous.

“ I know what you’re thinking. “

“ Oh, you do? Well I’d best ring somebody up, that will be the first in all of human history. “

Johnny shook his head.

“ Come on, Moz, drop this act. “

Morrissey narrowed his eyes, batting his thick, liquorish black lashes dramatically.

“ This isn’t a act, I’m afraid. “

“ Oh come on, don’t be silly. “

Morrissey grumbled under his breath, bearing his teeth as he slowly removed his hand from Johnny’s face.

“ I’m not being silly, I’m being serious. “

Johnny let out a sigh, closing his eyes momentarily.

“ I know, I know. “

“ Then why say such things? Do you enjoy seeing me angry? “

Johnny wasn’t sure why he said any of it, really. He knew that Morrissey was putting up this ‘ I’m so angry ‘ front to prevent Johnny from seeing his vulnerableness, but he had no idea why he’d verbalise this. Morrissey would never actually admit to doing such a thing, his pride was all he had left.

“ I don’t know... can we drop this? “

Morrissey’s hand was now wrapped around Johnny’s wrist, his cheeks a tint of rose petal pink as he licked his lips.

“ You’re right. I do apologise, Johnny. “

Johnny sighed in relief, kissing Morrissey’s forehead.

“ No need to say sorry, we’re just both tense, that’s all. “

“ Mmmm... “

Johnny noticed the flicker in Morrissey’s eyes, the darkness pooling in his moons.

“ What are you thinking? “

Morrissey let out a giggle, tightening his grip around Johnny’s wrist momentarily.

“ You’re no longer a mind reader? That’s a shame. It added so much more depth to your character. “

Johnny rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the tension accumulating in the air around them.

“ ...I never.... “

Morrissey’s eyes bolted up to look into Johnny’s, his lips in a tight line as his bushy eyebrows raised expectantly.

“ You never?... “

Johnny found himself moving closer, his hands now moving to Morrissey’s neck. He watched with curiosity and excitement as Morrissey’s eyes shimmied from his eyes, to his lips.

“ Never... thought you’d... “

He was now breathing heavily, his eyes locked on the sharp, Cupid bowed lips that were Morrissey’s.

“ The suspense is killing me, kiss me already, you little charmer. “ Morrissey almost growled, eagerness swirling in his vocal chords and darkening eyes.

Johnny obliged, feeling the corners of Morrissey’s lips upturn into a grin as they both kissed open mouthed and ravishingly. He could feel the heat of Morrissey burn up against him as his cold hands traveled up his shirt.

“ Ah... “

Johnny broke the kiss to stare into the singer’s widened, royal blue eyes. They twinkled, screamed and begged for Johnny to kiss him senseless once more, but something else was on the guitarists’s mind.

“ What? “

Morrissey sounded dumbfounded, slightly terrified. He was scared he had done something wrong.

“ Nothing. Don’t worry. “

The singer brought his long digits to his swollen lips, his eyes cast down to the floor in embarrassment.

“ Was it... the noise I made? Sorry, it’s rather humiliating. “

Johnny tried to forget how that very noise made him feel, shaking his head both in response to Morrissey and his thoughts.

“ Are you sure? “

Johnny tried to hide the reddening of his cheeks, breaking eye contact with the singer when he finally dragged his eyes up from the floor to try and figure out the issue.

“ So? Are you going to kiss me again or are you going to leave me dying over here? “

“ Yes... Yea. “

Johnny leaned closer once more, steadying his hands on Morrissey’s shoulders.

“ I’m sorry about that, seriously. “

Yes. He was sorry that the noise Morrissey made had sent him spiralling into a whirlwind of lust. He was sorry that it made him think of passionate nights with his wife, Angie. He was sorry that every moment he was reminded of his world outside of Morrissey’s house, he wanted to backflip off of a cliff from the guilt of it all.

“ Don’t speak, just kiss me, please. “

So Johnny did just that, maybe a bit angrily. Something snapped inside of him as he found himself attacking Morrissey’s lips, his tongue dancing around the insides of the singer’s mouth, groaning every time he heard yelping and moans of approval from the other.

“ Ah, so rough... “ Morrissey breathed out, sweat already glazing his brow bone as he stared up at Johnny with big, lustful eyes.

“ Have you... “ Johnny trailed, making some weird gestures with his bony hands.

Morrissey narrowed his eyes, raising a brow as he tried to calm himself.

Johnny let out a impatient sigh, flicking his hair out from his eyes.

“ Lube. Have you got any? “

The guitarist watched as realisation dawned upon Morrissey’s face.

“ Yes - in the nightstand. “

Johnny fumbled frantically through the singer’s nightstand drawer.

“ Johnny? “ Morrissey called out into the quietness of the room, his voice soft and shy sounding.

Johnny momentarily stopped what he was doing altogether, his amber eyes that waltzed with pale golden specks staring at Morrissey with a sense of wonder, and intrigue.

“ What is it, Moz? “ He queried, his swollen rosy pink lips pursed in anticipation.

Morrissey shut his eyes in some form of anguish, his hands cradling his shoulders as if he were imagining it were someone else.

“ I can’t do this. I can’t. “ He spluttered, tears dancing down his pearly white cheeks.

Johnny quickly leaped onto the bed and crawled upwards to where Morrissey was sat.

“ That’s fine, Moz, seriously! There isn’t any pressure at all, you know that? “ Johnny cooed, his voice fruitful and hushed as he ran his hands through Morrissey’s hair.

The singer was now shaking like a leaf, his button nose snotty and his eyes twinkling with tears.

“ Oh, Johnny, I can’t bear to do this with you if it means that you will leave me forever from guilt. I know you will never love me like you do her. “ Morrissey croaked out, his arms waving in the air for emphasis as he stifled another sob.

Johnny frowned deeply, clarity overtaking him.

“ Morrissey... I’m so sorry - I didn’t think of it like - “

“ You never do! It’s always about you, isn’t it? “

Johnny felt his eyes twinge with tears, cupping Morrissey’s face as he thought of what to say.

“ We can’t be together, Moz. I’m sorry. “

Morrissey let out a loud sob as he buried his head into Johnny’s chest, his shaking hands clutching the man’s clothes.

An undeniable love lingering in the air, poising the mind and squeezing the heart felt like a illness. Morrissey and Johnny knew this for this was the life they were up against. They can’t be together. They will never be together.

Morrissey wrapped his arms around himself, his body rocking side to side as his vision became blurred by tears. He watched closely as Johnny clambered into his car, his golden eyes burning into Morrissey’s royal blue ones for probably the very last time. Morrissey’s heart spluttered, shook and begged him to do something as Johnny sat, completely frozen as the purring of his car engine boomed throughout the cold air.

He couldn’t.

Morrissey waved sheepishly, watching as Johnny zoomed away, his heart leaving with him.

_Yes, I know my luck too well And I'll probably never see you again I'll probably never see you again I'll probably never see you again_


End file.
